


Unplanned

by transtwinyards



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Hand Kink, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-02 13:35:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5250089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transtwinyards/pseuds/transtwinyards
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing about being Ronan Lynch is that no one expects you to do something good. The thing about <i>dating</i> Ronan Lynch is that Adam doesn't expect him to be romantic.</p><p>Or: the two times that Ronan tried his experiment and the one time it actually worked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unplanned

**Author's Note:**

  * For [witchjack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchjack/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Lose It](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4903456) by [transtwinyards](https://archiveofourown.org/users/transtwinyards/pseuds/transtwinyards). 



> For witchjack, who wanted a sequel and got one, and then some more. Told ya I was gonna gift it to you.

_one_

Ronan pushed the cart with all of his might, glancing behind him, in the barren parking lot, to make sure that none of the employees had seen them.

Nothing. Nothing but the sound of the cart shaking on the uneven asphalt. Adam made a noise somewhat akin to delight, and Ronan looked back to see just that, his joy plain on his face, a fire in his eyes lighting the wick inside Ronan.

With a grin, he jumped onto the back of the cart, locked his eyes on Adam’s, and prayed for the worst and for the best.

The cart crossed the street in earnest and without incident. It was just about sunset, and no one would go to the Wal-Mart by the edge of Henrietta.

Ronan did not plan this.

The cart bumped into the parking meter and careened unevenly on the edge of the sidewalk. Ronan yelped, and pretended not to, as the cart canted to the side.

With its contents spilt on the sidewalk, the plastic bag containing their snack bars and bottles of soda flew off, into the distance.

Ronan made a violent noise, an exhale forced out. He hissed at the dull aches and told himself that this was for himself, that this was to make _him_ feel alive.

Adam laid flat on his back, breathing ragged. Ronan stared down at him, at the contours of his face, at the sunset painting him sepia.  Adam looked at him and grinned, and Ronan felt the flame inside him roar into a wildfire. Then, Adam laughed, and Ronan laughed, and he felt like the sun was growing in him.

Ronan let Adam up and together, they gathered the groceries, dumb grins on their faces, adrenaline letting them down from their highs. Ronan unlocked the BMW and they dumped the stuff into the backseats, with Ronan insisting that Gansey would have to deal with the shaken up bottles of soda.

They stood in front of the trunk, letting the sun beat on their backs, and the wind beat on their face. Ronan turned to go for the driver’s side, but caught Adam zoning out, and appropriately zoned out himself.

Shadowed by the sunset behind them, Ronan still thought that Adam glowed brighter. He brought his hand up and stroked the back of it across Adam’s cheek, reveling in the warmth, at the glow of life seeping out of Adam and into Ronan.

Adam glanced at him, blinking at Ronan’s hand on his cheek.

“What?” Adam asked, probably finding it a little unusual to Ronan staring at him openly. They’ve done the steps for so long that it was almost weird that Ronan didn’t look away. But Ronan’s hand was on Adam’s cheek, and Adam wasn’t saying anything that would hurt, and Ronan wasn’t spitting anything back.

“You’re amazing,” Ronan said, and Ronan did not plan this. He watched his words tumble out of his mouth, and he could do nothing to push them back in.

Adam’s posture stiffened for a bit, and Ronan retracted his hand. Adam grabbed at it midway, and pulled him close. Ronan felt his center of gravity shift towards Adam, felt his eyes flutter shut at the blinding light, felt his breath fly away like the plastic that had held their bags.

Ronan never got used to the feeling of Adam’s chapped lips, but he wasn’t complaining. Without thought, he kissed Adam like he was given salvation, and he felt more than heard Adam groan.

The streetlights were on when they pulled apart.

 

* * *

 

_two_

Ronan felt like absolute shit.

On their seventh formal date, because Ronan was definitely not counting, Adam had suggested that they could hang out in Monmouth the week before. Ronan had liked the sound of it, so much that he daydreamed of movies to watch, thought of Adam’s legs on his sheets, sighed about the days running too slow for his liking.

Then he caught the Henrietta bug the day before.

“Stop talking,” Adam muttered as he wrung the towel from the bowl of iced water on Ronan’s bedside table.

“I wasn’t,” Ronan protested.

Adam gave him a look that said otherwise, and that was enough to make Ronan embarrassed because he was talking to himself about Adam.

Adam sighed, folding the damp towel by his lap. Ronan observed his hands at work, watched the way his fingers held down every corner. Were he healthy, he would have thought that this was anxious Adam behavior. Ronan blinked languidly, and closed his eyes, finally. He was sick, so he didn’t catch the way Adam had bunched up his shoulders.

Adam laid the towel on top of his forehead, and ghosted his lips on the tip of Ronan’s nose. The pads of his fingers slid down Ronan’s cheeks, tracing his hairline, settling by his jaw. It was enough to make Ronan feel almost healthy again.

He couldn’t kiss Adam.

“I’m sorry I ruined our date,” Ronan muttered, knowing that Adam’s face was inches from his, and if he opened his eyes, he would have kissed Adam, and infecting him with the bug would have been worse than ruining the date.

“You’re more important than our date, Ronan,” Adam said, and Ronan squirmed beneath him.

“I was really looking forward to it,” he said, and he was too sick to realize that he shouldn’t have said that. If he were healthy, he would have turned his head to the side and told Adam to leave, out of embarrassment. Adam would have laughed and told him ‘ _I love you too_ ’.

A silence held between them, and Ronan was halfway asleep when he heard, “I really wish I could kiss you right now.”

 

* * *

 

_three_

Ronan walked up the stairs to Adam’s apartment, ignoring the ghost ache of his knees.

He’d definitely spent too long kneeling on those pews. Next time he goes to confession, he’ll bring a wheelchair, then call Adam down from his tower like he was fucking Rapunzel. Have him carry Ronan up the stairs.

Ronan thought that maybe he liked that thought too much. He pulled at his neck tie, silently hating Declan for making him wear constricting church clothes.

The door swung open on Ronan’s first knock, and Ronan’s heart surged a little at the thought of Adam possibly waiting for him to come up there and knock on the door on a fine Sunday morning.

Ronan didn’t notice the room first, didn’t notice the way that Adam’s sheets were strewn messily, didn’t notice the way that his bedside box was right side up and open. But he did notice Adam, noticed the marks left on Adam’s arms and legs from the sheets, noticed the start of stubble by his chin.

“Oh, come on in,” Adam drawled, yawning in the middle of it. Ronan gulped and stepped into the apartment.

“Sorry it’s a mess,” Adam started, “I heard the bells ring and accidentally knocked over the box.”

It was a lie, blatant and barren, and Adam had set it on the middle of the room. Ronan gave him a look, a look that was fitting in the category of Gansey’s mom looks. Ronan liked to think he’d honed it perfectly for ironic imitation games with Noah.

Adam frowned, and Ronan felt guilty for setting the decent Gansey interpretation on him.

Nightmares were not things they talked about. It was a door they didn’t have a key to yet, and both were adamant about getting the key first.

Ronan sighed, pulling his neck free from the trap that they call an accessory. He unbuttoned the first button on his shirt and dropped down onto the unmade mattress.

“Why’d you take so long?” Adam asked, bumping Ronan’s knee as he sat down next to him, as if to say _thank you_. Ronan bumped his knee back.

“You were timing me?” Ronan teased. Adam affectionately rolled his eyes.

“Mass ends at seven. It’s almost eight-thirty.”

“I went to confession,” Ronan admitted. “Then did some penance prayers. Then a few more.”

Adam hummed, “What else did you pray for, then?”

Ronan was unused to this. Ronan was unused to talking and communication and the like, so he looked Adam in the eyes and held it. He prepared himself, told himself not to back out of it. “Us.”

And Adam kissed him.

It felt more uplifting than penance, or the Lord’s forgiveness given to him by some shifty priest.

Adam’s hands were quick where his lips were not. The slow drag of his lips on Ronan’s, the bite of his teeth as he pulled at Ronan’s bottom lip, it was all just sweet distraction as Adam popped open one button at a time.

“This is a nice after church present,” Ronan muttered into Adam’s mouth, cradling the back of his head as he kissed his way down Adam’s jaw. His other hand slipped behind Adam, the pads of his fingers finding the smooth skin of Adam’s back, waist, chest.

Adam sighed, hands squeezing by Ronan’s shoulders as he closed his eyes at the sensations of Ronan’s worship.

“This because I’ve been saying romantic shit for weeks?” Ronan teased, slipping Adam out of his shirt. Adam reached for his sharp jaw, and pulled him in again.

Ronan laid him down on his back, thinking back to the sunset in the Wal-Mart parking lot, to Adam’s life-high laughter. His hands found Adam’s cheeks, the pink of his nipples, the tent by his pajama pants.

Again, Adam pulled him in for a kiss, and honestly, Ronan was never going to get tired of that. “You goddamn right it is,” he rasped out, eyelashes fluttering as Ronan gently ran a hand over his pajama pants.

“And you thought I couldn’t turn you on while being romantic,” Ronan smirked, pulling Adam’s pants down slowly, intimately. Adam hissed in anticipation, at the sensation, and possibly at Ronan’s teasing.

Adam sprang free, and the cold air hit him all at once. Ronan slid the pants down all the way and threw it behind him.

“Get naked, you unfair dick,” Adam cursed. “Stop looking pretty in your clothes.”

Ronan grinned and sat back to slowly slide off his unbuttoned shirt. He watched Adam’s hungry look, watched Adam’s hand drift to down to his crotch as Ronan undid his belt.

Ronan tried not to rush his strip show with how Adam was looking at him, with his blue eyes swallowed by black, stripping him faster than Ronan’s shaking hands were.

Adam reached out, touched Ronan’s arm, biting his lips and hissing as he slowly spread his precome on himself, stroking himself like Ronan would if Ronan's own hands weren't pre-occupied.

Ronan chucked all of his clothes off, and Adam grinned. Ronan crawled on top of him, dick grazing Adam's thigh on the way up. Adam canted his hips up, bumping hips with Ronan.

Ronan groaned, tried not to come on sight, his head dizzy with pleasure and want. Without much thought, he said, “I want you to fuck me like your life depended on it.”

Adam was quick to roll him over, and Ronan _felt_ like Adam was going to fuck him like his life really did depend on it, and he was thrilled.

Adam lifted his fingers to Ronan’s mouth. Ronan licked and sucked, looking Adam straight in the eyes, and felt his insides do somersaults at the look on Adam’s face. Adam kissed him, kissed his jaw, down his neck, bit a mark by his tattoo. Ronan moaned and groaned around calloused fingers, and touched Adam, and thought about Adam inside him and basically sputtered into a groaning mess as he spread out his legs.

“God, your _hands_ ,” Ronan hissed as Adam pulled his fingers out, leaving a trail of spit between Ronan’s lips and his fingers. Ronan felt like if Adam didn’t get inside him soon, he’ll die of embarrassment of coming before Adam even fucked him.

Adam let his fingers prod at Ronan’s hole, his eyes dark with want. “Your fucking hands are going to do me in before you do, and then you’re going to do me in again.”

It was a weird sensation at first, and Ronan welcomed it. Adam was looking more and more impatient by the second, his defenses falling down with every groan he emitted from Ronan, and Ronan felt elated.

“Adam,” Ronan shook out, and he was shaking with anticipation, in awe, in, _in_ —

Ronan felt his brain fizzle out as Adam pushed in.

And it was fast, and it was Adam, and Adam fucked him like his life depended on it, and Ronan was not disappointed.

Every thrust was met, and their groans were getting louder and louder, and Adam said, “You look fucking beautiful. God, _you feel so good_.”

Ronan pulled him down for a kiss, and groaned into his mouth, a litany of _harder_ and _oh God_ and _Adam_. The slap of skin was shaking the floorboards, and Ronan’s center of gravity shifted again, and he felt like a cave in was happening in his head.

He let out a shout as he came, soiling Adam’s messy sheets, and Adam followed soon after with a strangled shout of his name.

Ronan felt full, and thoroughly fucked, and he couldn’t be happier.

“Successful experiment then,” he muttered, feeling like raising his voice after that would have been breaking an unsaid rule. Adam huffed out a laugh.

“Yeah, Ronan. Yeah.”

**Author's Note:**

> Typos are entirely my fault for rushing to finish this. I still suck at smut and you can't convince me.
> 
> Comments are appreciated! My tumblr is [here](http://stubbornjerk.tumblr.com).


End file.
